


Life In The Night

by RubyJune23



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Crime, Double Life, Teen Fiction, gone bad, second life, secret life, teen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 18:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8544220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyJune23/pseuds/RubyJune23
Summary: Follow 15-year-old Kendall Newman, as she attempts to hide her double life consisting of drinking, tattoos, older men, faking her identity, and nearly escaping grave danger. Nobody knows her, everybody wants to be her.With Kendall's family focusing so little attention on her, she manages to sneak out nightly, while managing to keep a B average.With a massive wig collection to boot, and phenomenal stage makeup skills, Kendall seems to get away with everything, until she doesn't.PG-13 (Kissing, use of drugs and alcohol, violence, brief sexuality)





	

11/9/16 Wednesday  
  


I over-hand threw my backpack onto the roof, being careful not to hit the filthy gutter. I then proceeded to climb between the planks of the picket-fence, standing on the toes of my Adidas Superstars.

I pulled myself onto the roof, one leg at a time, the cold metal gutter burned my skin through the holes of my distressed denim jeans as I slid up the edge. Once I had my grip, I stood up, grabbed my bag by the strap, and walked to the window on the opposite side on the roof

I widened the already partially opened window, and threw my backpack in, landing on the bathroom tile 4ft below. I lifted my left leg gently and slid it through, followed by my right leg and glided into the bathroom, landing in a squat.

I opened my bag and pulled out my iPhone 6, 7:31pm it read.

"Time for school" I whispered.

+++

11/9/16 Wednesday 4:14pm

"'Gen next' is what they call us. Gen next or Generation Z, anyone born after 1995 to present is considered a member. The most technologically advanced generation yet. Although I don't think that makes very much sense as every generation was at one point the most technologically advanced..."

I typed briskly into to keyboard of my grimy laptop, the unwashed device made me anxious and my inner OCD kicked in. I pulled the sleeve from my over-sized school-hoodie over my fists and scrubbed the spotted screen. _Much better_ I thought, suddenly feeling a lack of liveliness and a grave need for sleep. 

I was used to this by now, from the countless nights I would refrain sleep, yet still manage to be on time for school the following day. That's more than a large majority of students my age could testify to.

In desperate need of a nap, I foraged for my phone. I hunched over a pile of laundry, "Shit" I muttered under my fetid breath. My mouth reeked of the Cheez-it's I was munching on. I continued to wreak havoc upon my unorganized room, scattered with clothes from the carpet to the end of my twin bed. I found the chaos to be quite enjoyable, mainly because I could see everything I wanted. Except for my phone, which always seemed to be out of place.

As my impatience grew, I came to the realization that my phone was most likely downstairs in the kitchen. 

Now all I could think about is that I would probably have to interact with my family.

Yes, many people enjoy spending quality time with their family members and don't have a deep hatred for those they are related to, but I am not one of those people.

My mother is a selfish, cold-hearted bitch. She has no respect for me or my father, not that I have much respect for my father either. He's kind of a... lowlife? He doesn't do much, constantly on his computer, or in front of the TV. He's never paid much attention to me or my brother, Devan. Devan is different from other little boys. While they're are interested in sports, and cars, n' shit. Devan's only care in the world was horses (and bothering me). My parents would blow thousands of dollars monthly for the 10-year-olds riding and polo lessons. I knew for a fact we didn't have the money, I'm curious as to how they manage to pull it off.

Neglected by both of my (lousy) parents since birth, I've basically raised myself.

I proceeded through the hallway, passing Devan's room. As per usual, Devan sat at the foot of his bed drawing some trashy horse sketch my mother would gawk over and nail to the wall. _Typical_.

As I proceeded down the stairs, my eyes alert, on the hunt for my phone, I could hear cupboards slamming one by one.

I swiftly entered the kitchen to see my mother sitting at her in-kitchen office, typing away on her desktop computer.

I must have taken less than 3 steps before she turned her head to her right shoulder, her blonde shoulder-length hair whipped behind her and she glared at my eyes. Slowly she turned her head forward.

I almost anticipated her to turn around, jump onto the white granite countertops, rip off her blouse, and scream like a banshee until I bled from my ears and inevitably died. (I was half right)

I saw my black canvas backpack hanging from the back of a bar stool in the center of the kitchen, I walked gently towards it, knowing damn well she'd have something to say about leaving it in the kitchen.

I heard her mumble something indiscriminate, yet condescending from the other side of the room. I chose to ignore it as opposed to recieving a monotonous lecture. I Headed upstairs two steps at a time stomping my way up.

I strolled through the wide hall, towards my messy room with my backpack over one shoulder. 

As I entered my room, that initial tiredness hit me again.

I poured all the contents of the bag onto the floor, out came my phone, two Eos lip balms, a fork, and $4000 in cash. "Shit" I muttered. I had completely forgotten about the cash I received from the night prior.

I shoved the money, Eos, and fork into the bottom of my bag and hung it on the silver hook on my door.

Phone in hand I fell into my bed, exhausted. I lifted my phone over my face, setting an alarm for 10:30PM

Finally, I drifted off to sleep.

I dreamt of the night prior, as I usually did.

+++

I'm in a club, no a rave. People are covered in neon paint which looks almost electric in the dim lighting of the vibrating room.

The music is pulsating, I can't make the song out, some hipster-DJ trash. I nearly avoid dozens of drunk strangers as I make my way through the crowd.

I was smarter than them. Knew when to get drunk or high, and how to do it safely, not in a chaotic environment like this. Who knew how many girls wouldn't come home to their families in the morning. Sickening.

As I pushed through the final few rowdy groups and came face to face with someone, he had to be at least 6' 11", easily the tallest person in the room.

He cocked his eyebrows at me.

"Color of the day?" he broke eye-contact

"White," I yelled over the music.

He leaned back opening a large black door, I strode through the entrance with high confidence.

I was faced with a long narrow hallway with only one door at the end, mirrors on both sides with maroon carpeting. I finally had the chance to look at myself.

I wore a wig, a black bob-cut, as opposed to my usual hair, light brown, cut-off at my should blades. I always thought it was bland.

My makeup was dramatic, dark red lipstick with darker lip liner to give my lips a plump effect. A smokey eye look, pretty basic. My nose was contoured to look much larger. I was unrecognizable, and that's how I wanted to be.

I had a tight black tube dress that I had no previous recollection of wearing, along with shiny black stilettos 7 inches off the ground. And to top it off a small-red-purse that hung at my hip by a thin gold chain.

I channeled my inner Russian diva and made my way down the long hallway.

As I reached my hand out to twist the knob, the door swung open and a short man, bleeding from the mouth ran past me, as I jumped back out of shock.

I exhaled and entered the room, 6 men sat at a round table.

Each had 5 cards in hand, and various amounts of poker chips in piles.

All 6 looked at me as if I was a piece of meat, I rolled my eyes, and walked around the table, slowly, in a full circle.

My eyes met with a larger Italian man. He raised both eyebrows, signaling me to cover towards him, I did so.

He pushed his chair back slightly, I slid onto his lap. My mind was ablaze.

I had one mission, leaving the rave with as much cash as possible.

Moments passed as the men played whatever stupid game none of them were enjoying. Poker maybe? I couldn't care less. I felt a chuckle rumble through the body of the man I sat upon, as he placed all of his cards down.

The play must have been good, as the six other men looked horrified, and angered by the cards.

He laughed again as he pulled chips and multiple wads of cash towards us. He reached into the pile, pulled two wads of cash out, and handed them to me.

I grabbed both and shoved them into my tiny purse. With a subtle smirk on my face, I jumped off his lap.

Like the douche he clearly was, he slapped my ass. I dropped my smirk and flew out of the room.

While I pushed the door, m-

*DANG DANG DANG DANG*

I rubbed my eyes, my alarm continued.

I grabbed my phone and turned the painful tone off.

10:30PM, I needed to get ready.


End file.
